


Made of Glass

by mangocianamarch



Series: Le Livre de L'un par La Dame Marciana [3]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangocianamarch/pseuds/mangocianamarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on an idea given to me by my sweetheart.</p><p>Five times Richard protects Dean when he doesn't really need it, one time that Richard protects Dean when he DOES need it, and one time Dean protects Richard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made of Glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuciusA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciusA/gifts).



> Wrote this on a wonderful idea given to me by my baby.
> 
> Also, the first +1 became more of an implied protection than actual protection, but I don't think anyone's gonna complain. :P

  **I.**

Yes, okay, fine. Dean isn't exactly tall. He's probably the sho---Least tall of the entire Dwarf company. And okay, at first, all the nicknames and the hair-ruffling is rather funny, almost adorable.

But there's only so much of it one person can take. And there's so many times Richard can join in and not feel bad about it, especially when he sees how Dean's face changes when he thinks no one is looking anymore.

One day, it's particularly bad. Sure, it's become a running joke, but they're still words, and words can still sting, especially when the joke hasn't died after 10 minutes. Richard doesn't particularly think himself authoritative, but they've been training and filming together long enough...

He puts up a hand and catches Dean's balled up shirt in mid-air, quickly putting a halt to Graham and William's shenanigans. “Aww!” William whines.

“Come on, you guys, that's enough,” Richard says, “Dean's gotta get going, and you do too.”

He hands Dean's shirt back to him as Graham and William leave, Graham shooting Richard a strange look. Dean takes his shirt back, muttering his gratitude.

“You okay?” Richard asks him as Dean stuffs the shirt into his rucksack.

“Fine,” Dean replies, “Could've handled it myself, but fine.”

“Yeah, I see you were handling it pretty well,” Richard snorts, quickly sobering at the simpering look Dean gives him.

“Look, I know you relish this role and all,” Dean tells him, “And I think it's great that you look out for me and Aidan like we really are related and shit, but there are some things I don't necessarily need your help for. This is one of them.”

“You sure?” Richard asks, and the expression on Dean's face tells Richard that he knows _exactly_  what Richard means.

“I've had worse,” Dean answers, shouldering his bag, “...Thanks, though.”

He walks off then, Aidan finding him and wrapping an arm around him, but not before ruffling his hair.

 

**II.**

Dean is just one of those guys who sees and appreciates more of the world than most people do.

Richard thinks it comes with his artist soul. He sees so much more than what the naked eye sees. He sees through the trees, the clouds, the water, the wind...It shows in the pictures he takes or the paintings he makes, the poems he writes when he's got downtime.

Unfortunately, that means there's a lot of his immediate surroundings he doesn't see.

Like that big rock he's backing up into as he's trying to get a good shot of the strange orange sky as the sun goes down.

It's almost like a countdown in Richard's head, and then everything happens in slow motion. He doesn't even know that he moves, but he somehow manages to catch Dean almost as soon as his foot trips, and it's a good thing he does. Dean's first instinct is to protect his camera, so he hadn't made a move to stop his own fall.

“You okay?” Richard asks as he helps Dean find his footing again.

“You know you could've just told me there was something behind me,” Dean says, blushing pretty badly; Richard pointedly looks away from Dean.

“I don't think you'd have heard me, to be honest,” Richard replies, “You were so caught up in what you were doing. Besides, I didn't want to interrupt.”

“It might've been a good idea to though,” Dean says, “...Thanks, though.”

Richard nods, and gives him a little smile of encouragement before walking off to give Dean his space.

 

**III.**

The day Richard finds out about Dean and Aidan is the same day everybody finds out about Dean and Aidan.

He doesn't always go out drinking with the guys, so when he does, it's a rather cherished occasion, and everybody makes a big deal of it. Aidan decides to celebrate this particular one by kissing Dean full-on in front of everyone and acting as if they all should've known by now, as they've been “so obviously hiding.” Aidan struts off –  _struts_  – to go get himself and his apparent boyfriend some more drinks, leaving Dean to fend off everyone's stares, teasing and questions on his own.

Richard sits in silence, swigging from his beer. He's not all that surprised. It's as if some part of him has always known anyway. That doesn't explain why his stomach feels like it's somewhere around his knees.

Once Aidan is clinging to  _everybody_ , the most ridiculous cheshire grin on his otter face, Richard knows it's time for him to go home. Only this time, he's taking Dean with him. Not that they've never left together before, but now they're most likely going back to the same _house_ , and Richard finds he doesn't like that thought at all. The others tease them and try to convince them to stay. When Dean insists on leaving, the teasing gets worse. It's all good-natured, encouraging teasing, sure, but Aidan is half-asleep on Dean's shoulder.

Despite himself, Richard pulls out his leader card again. “Okay, you guys, that's enough,” he says, chuckling at something Nesbitt has just called the pair, “Let them be. Aidan's dead on his feet already.”

“Not!” Aidan protests, slurring, “Not...on my feet.”

A few people nearly spit out their drinks.

“Exhibit fuckin' A,” Dean says, “Oh, come on, Turner, get out of my chest, man.”

“Not what you said the other night,” Aidan manages to say, and half the Company groans. Dean knocks Aidan upside his curly little head as he laughs.

“You okay?” Richard asks, rising out of his seat, “Need help?”

Dean looks like he's about to say no, but then Aidan's mouth finds Dean's neck, and everybody – EVERYBODY – knows how sensitive Dean is there. He flinches and nearly drops Aidan, but Aidan just  _laughs_. “Fuckin'...” Dean mutters, “Yeah, Rich, sure.”

“I can drive you home if you'd like,” Richard says as he and Dean half-drag Aidan outside.

“Nah, we can get a cab,” Dean replies, poking Aidan in the ribs to make sure he's still conscious (Aidan swears and nearly bites Dean's earlobe off).

“Are you sure?” Richard asks, peering over Aidan's curls at Dean.

“Yeah, we'll be fine,” Dean says, holding out his free hand. A cab turns the corner and slows as it approaches them; it's almost like Dean had summoned it by magic or something.

“You smell like rich, Mint!” Aidan chuckles at Richard as Dean basically dumps him into the backseat of the cab.

“So we'll see you for breakfast tomorrow?” Dean inquires of Richard, who seems to have spaced out just slightly.

“Huh? Oh,” Richard answers, letting out a small laugh of embarrassment, “Yeah, of course. I'll try to be early so I can help out.”

“You don't really have to, honestly,” Dean says, but then Aidan pops his head out and predicts a sudden weather change, “You know what? This one might not be so useful in the morning, so yeah, sure, but you know, no pressure.”

“Great,” Richard answers, “Hey, I'm...I'm really happy for you guys.”

“Was bound to happen sooner or later, eh?” Dean laughs brightly, “...Thanks, though.”

Richard leaves it at that, letting Dean slide into the backseat of the cab with Aidan and watching it zoom out of sight.

 

**IV.**

It's snowing.

It's not just snowing.

It's snowing out on location.

Production has no choice but to shut down for the afternoon. They have no word on whether the snow will let up long enough for them to continue, so the actors retreat to the “wagons.” At least, that's what Graham has taken to calling them, after his “brilliant idea” of having the actors' trailers formed into a semi-circle camp, like in old Western movies, had been taken up by the drivers. By the time Richard makes it back to “the camp,” some of the Dwarves have already built a little bonfire in the middle of it, have brought out chairs and are roasting marshmallows.

It's the silliest thing Richard has ever seen, and yet after the day they've all had, some hot chocolate and toasted marshmallows around a fire in the snow sounds absolutely heavenly. Bringing out a chair of his own and a blanket, he finds a spot beside Dean, who pours him some hot choco right away.

Not all the Dwarves are outside enjoying the fire. At least a third of them is indoors, including (Richard notices with a pang of triumph he's sure he should feel guilty about) Aidan.

Beside Richard, Dean draws his costume coat in a little tighter.

“You okay?” Richard asks him, and Dean turns a smirk at him that's so insanely  _Fili_  that Richard just has to laugh (but he does it inwardly because Dean is shuddering).

“I'm okay,” Dean tells him, rubbing at his arms a little before having some of his hot choco, “Just colder out here than I was prepared for.”

Dean ends with a little shrug, but his breath is visible in the air. Richard takes the blanket he brought with him and reaches across to put it around Dean. Dean turns big, questioning eyes at Richard.

“I'll be fine,” Richard says truthfully, indicating Thorin's thick leather coat and fur pelt collar.

“You sure?” Dean offers.

“I'm British,” Richard reminds him, “We're cold inside and out.”

Dean guffaws – actually  _guffaws_  – and it's literally one of the most ridiculously adorable sounds Richard Armitage has heard in his 40 years of being alive; the fact that such a big sound can come out of a relatively small package is insanely amusing.

“You really didn't need to,” Dean says when he's sobered up, “...Thanks, though.”

Richard tries not to notice the way Dean is trying to fight down a smile by sipping from his hot choco.

 

**V.**

The day Richard finds out about Dean and Aidan is the day Dean finds out about Dean and Aidan.

There was never any guarantee that it was going to last, although everyone thought it would. They just seemed so smitten with each other, and so matched together, and just... _together_ , so that nobody could really imagine them not together.

But then suddenly they aren't together, and no one is more surprised than Dean.

When Richard finds Dean heading home alone from Nesbitt's “We Only Have One Month Left So Let's Have Dinner At My Place Which Really Just Means I'm Going To Order A Lot Of Pizza” dinner, he figures something is wrong. The way Dean shoots a furtive glance at Aidan’s back before completely slipping away from everyone tells Richard something is VERY wrong.

He follows Dean at a distance until they’re a safe ways away from Nesbitt’s house. He whistles to let Dean know he’s back there, and Dean slows down to let him catch up.

“You okay?” Richard asks as soon as he’s standing beside Dean.

“I dunno,” Dean replies, hands in his pocket, eyes squinted at nothing in particular, “Just...I dunno.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Richard offers gently.

Dean seems to consider it for a while. “Maybe,” he answers after a while, “Some part of me thinks I should wait a couple of days, but then there’s another part of me that thinks I’ll go crazy and barge into his place and shout at him and throw things if I don’t let it out.”

“We certainly don’t want that,” Richard says, wincing a little at the thought, “You’re welcome back to mine for tea and sympathy, if you’d have them.”

Dean stops and turns, giving Richard a once-over. “Why are you being so nice to me?” he asks.

“...I’m sorry?” Richard answers, confused.

“How is it that anytime it looks like I’m in a spot or something, you’re always there?” Dean continues, “You’re always helping out, or...or... _protecting_ me when I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself. Why? What do you get out of it? What are you hoping to achieve?”

Richard is taken aback. Dean isn’t being hostile, or at least he doesn’t mean to be, but Richard is still a little hurt. “I don’t need to get anything out of it,” he tells Dean, “And I’ve never really looked to get anything out of it. We’re supposed to be looking out for each other, and that’s all I’m doing. I mean...we’re friends, aren’t we?”

The word feels strange in Richard’s mouth, like an uninvited guest to a party. But it works, and Dean’s expression softens. He rubs a hand over his face and into his hair.

“Friends...” he echoes, “Yes, we are. Of course we are. I’m sorry. I’m just...I’m not myself right now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Richard replies, “The offer still stands, but if you’d prefer to be alone for now...”

Dean looks like he’s trying to clear his head. “Um...I think...Yeah, that’d probably be best,” he says after a while, “I’m...I’m really sorry I snapped at you. You’re the last person I should be doing that too.”

“Forget about it, and I will too,” Richard promises, “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dean declines, “I’ll be okay.”

“How about breakfast then?” Richard offers, “I’ll come over, make waffles or something, and we can talk over coffee. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds nice,” Dean replies with a tiny nod, “Breakfast then.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right tonight?” Richard tries one more time.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Dean repeats, “...Thanks, though.”

Richard puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder and gives him a reassuring squeeze. Dean walks away, and Richard hopes that him watching Dean leave until he’s made it home isn't intrusive.

 

**+1**

Dean bucks, clutching at the pillow beneath him while his teeth somehow find its case and _pull_ , at least until Richard snaps his hips again, and Dean’s jaw falls slack in a silent moan.

“You okay?” Richard asks him, panting from the force of his release.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean swallows, “Just... _fuck_ , Rich.”

“I know,” Richard sighs, hand sliding down Dean’s chest, “Fuck, I know.”

Dean grabs him and pulls him down to him, catching his lips in a hot kiss as he ruts against Richard, desperate for his own orgasm.

“Richard,” he groans helplessly, clutching at Richard’s shoulder.

“Ssshhh, it’s okay, I’m here,” Richard whispers, kissing at Dean’s forehead as he reaches down between them, finding Dean’s cock and giving him a few quick, sharp strokes, “I’m right here, Dean, I’ve got you, come on...”

Richard watches Dean’s face run a gamut of emotions and expressions as he strokes him to finish, and when Dean spills between them, he swallows Dean’s groan in another kiss. Dean’s fingers are digging into his skin, clinging to him needily, and Richard is sure he’s going to have marks there in hours. He peppers Dean’s sweaty skin with soft kisses as Dean comes down from his high, tugging at Richard’s short hair.

“Don’t go,” Dean murmurs, “Don’t go yet. Please.”

“I won’t,” Richard promises.

“Last day tomorrow,” Dean reminds Richard as he withdraws and rids himself of the condom, “Then you’re going home on Tuesday.”

“So what?” Richard asks, trying _really_ hard not to be completely turned on by how absolutely debauched Dean looks.

“So I’m gonna be alone again, that’s what,” Dean protests, picking at the sheets beneath him, “So the point of all of... _this_ just goes out the window, that’s fucking what.”

Richard thinks he can practically hear the pout in Dean’s voice as he sits back down on the bed. “No, it doesn’t,” he says soothingly, “And no, you won’t be alone.”

“I think you missed the part where you were _flying back to London on Tuesday_ ,” Dean huffs.

“Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I have to go,” Richard counters, and the look of confusion on Dean’s face is so absolutely adorable, it takes all of Richard’s will power not to grab him and boff him all the way to next century again.

“Richard, you’re gorgeous and all,” Dean says, and Richard has to purse his lips because he’s feeling a laughing fit coming on, “And you fuck like your goddamn life depends on it, but wow, speak fucking English, could you?”

And that’s it, Richard is laughing, and Dean smacks him in the stomach, claiming that it isn’t funny, but he’s chuckling too. And it’s nice, this. A lot nicer than Richard had hoped it would be. And it’s only been two weeks.

“So you’re really not gonna explain what you mean?” Dean asks, sobering only slightly.

“Nope,” Richard replies, “You’re gonna figure it out.”

“I’d like to figure _you_ out, you little...” Dean mutters. He and Richard just look at each other for a few seconds, and it’s Dean who laughs first this time.

“Because I want to spend my last few days here in bed with you,” Richard chuckles, “I’m going to pretend that made sense.”

“Aha, knew you just liked me for my ass,” Dean shoots back, but he kisses Richard’s shoulder, “Thanks though.”

Richard kisses the top of Dean’s head, and reaches to turn the light off.

 

**+1**

Richard hisses as he gingerly turns his left wrist, bandaged already but still painful. Dean is right beside him in a second, handing him his tea, his Dwarf hands off already.

“You okay?” Dean asks him, making sure that Richard takes his tea with his good hand.

“I’m fine,” Richard replies, flexing the fingers on his left hand, “I’m just a little frustrated with myself. I trained so hard before we came back, and what do I do on our second day back? I hurt my fucking hand. Go figure.”

“Well, maybe you just trained too hard,” Dean offers, “Or...you know...maybe you missed me a little too much?” Richard doesn’t need the suggestive hand gesture Dean does or the way he waggles his eyebrows comically at him to know what Dean means.

“Sod off, you,” Richard chuckles, “Although I did miss you a lot.”

“Too late, you already told me to sod off,” Dean says, standing up to leave, “And now you can miss me a lot more.”

“Bastard,” Richard hisses, laughing, “Come back here, I’m not done with you.”

But he grabs for Dean with the wrong hand, and he lets out a small yelp. Dean forgets all levity and is kneeling in front of where Richard is sitting, his injured hand cradled in both of Dean’s.

“Sorry,” Dean murmurs, stroking gently over Richard’s knuckles.

“Oh shush, it’s not your fault,” Richard says, sighing when Dean’s lips brush against his hand gently, “That’s nice though, keep doing that.”

Dean chuckles, reaching up and pulling Richard to him, hand disappearing in Thorin’s long tresses. Their kiss is sweet, if brief, but Dean doesn’t mind; there will be time for more later. Much, _much_ more.

“That’s a lot better,” Richard sighs, “It doesn’t help my hand, but it’s a lot better.”

Dean laughs again, and he’s missed this too. He’s missed Richard making him laugh, Richard making him breakfast, Richard making him nearly blind with how good he feels in and around him...

 _Later_.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Dean asks Richard.

“Yeah,” Richard replies with a little shrug, “Thanks, though.”

Dean plants a gentle kiss in Richard’s wig, cooing at him, and Richard bats him away, laughing.

 

**_~ END. ~_ **


End file.
